


Everyone Knows

by Enide_Dear



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: And bickering, M/M, These dorks, are at it again, for extra sensual dorkiness, this time with added soap and hot water, with the ust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 13:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16018736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enide_Dear/pseuds/Enide_Dear
Summary: Everyone knows dwarves are ugly, untrustworthy, hobbit-endangering people with no manners and less decency.Everyone except whatever Valar created Gimli son of Gloin, apparently.





	Everyone Knows

Since he was a child, Legolas had heard tales of dwarves. He’d heard of their rapacity and ugliness, their wanton destruction of all things beautiful and their utter unreliability in times of peril. He’d heard of the sack of Doriath, where he might have grown up in peace and safety had it not been for the dwarves unjust greed. And Elrond Peredhel himself had rather harassed spoken of his defiled fountain after Thorin and his Company passed through Imladris.

Dwarves were worse than orcs, in a way, because orcs did not pretend to be your friend. Orcs came at you with all intent of murdering you and didn’t sing sad songs about their own destroyed homelands in a way that resonated with far too much familiarity inside you to be comfortable. No wizard would ever dream of bringing an orc into a fellowship no matter how practical and staunch they turned out to be during warg attacks or snowstorms or the heavy oppressing darkness of Mora. No orc would pretend to be caring of scuffed Hobbit feet or blistered toes at the end of the long days of wandering. 

No orc would feel as strong and solid and warm against him if he dragged it out of the Chamber of Marzabul (and what madness had possessed him to do that, he dared not think of).

Orc were uncomplicated. But dwarves were bad news, everybody knew that.

Dwarves easily befriended hobbits, and it never turned out well for the hobbit. That was *known*, by everyone except apparently Mihtrandir, Aragorn and Boromir who all seemed to think nothing but kindly to the overtures the dwarf was doing towards the hobbits, and the Ringbearer in particular. 

It was getting painfully obvious that if there would be anyone to protect the Ringbearer from the dwarfs inevitable treachery, it would have to be Legolas himself. 

It would be a damn sight easier to do, if the dwarf had kept his clothes on. 

Dwarves were ugly. Everyone knew this. *Everyone*. Except whatever Vala had created Gimli son of Gloin, who was now stripping off his pants to go into the hot spring that Lady Galadriels people had so kindly shown them to, after plying the Fellowship with soap and pretty much fleeing the place with their hands over their noses. 

Sweet Varda, the dwarf even had hair on his legs. And his chest. And his….

Legolas tore his eyes away and took a couple of deep breaths. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t bathed naked in the forest streams with his own people any number of times, and the Men and Hobbits were already in the spring, scrubbing of days of dirt, so why was he so affected….

The Hobbits. The protective thought cut through all his misgivings. He had to protect the Hobbits from the dwarf who was even now getting into the water and so there was nothing for it but to quickly discard his own clothes, barely taking time to make sure his bow and arrows were kept from the water before splashing in himself. 

The water rose to about his midriff, which meant almost to the neck of the Hobbits as Legolas quickly made his way to take up position between the vulnerable little folk and the unreliable dwarf. He got about halfway to his intended spot when a shoulder hit him in solar plexus – not hard enough to drive the air from him, but hard enough to make a very clear point. He found himself looking down on a wet, angry face which, freed from the helmet for once, held an absolutely astounding amount of hair, both above and below. 

Dwarven hair was coarse as a boars, everyone knew that. Except that the tresses that floated out from Gimli to touch his chest felt distractingly soft. 

“Oh no you don’t, lad.” Gimli crossed his arms and glared. “I’m not letting you anywhere near those Hobbits!”

Legolas could only stare, vaguely aware that both Men and Hobbits were now looking at the two of them.

“What makes you think you have the right to tell me what to do?” He sneered back, putting his hands on his hips. A strange jolt went through him when Gimli’s eyes followed the motion, almost involuntary. 

“The purpose of this quest is to keep the Hobbits safe, and that’s what I’ll do.” A stubby finger came up to poke him in the ribs. “Even if it means safe from your people! Elves can’t be trusted, everyone knows that!”

The sheer force of indignation that welled over Legolas was almost too much too handle; a dwarf calling *him* unreliable?! All other members of the Fellowship were now staring at them, hurridley but quietly trying to get them all up of the water and out of reach for collateral damage, but Legolas barely noticed. He fumbled for an answer that didn’t go back on thousands of years of history and the only thing that came to mind was a really low blow. 

“If not for me, you would have been buried in Moria next to Balins tomb!” he put both hands on Gimli’s shoulders and pushed, hard enough to rock him back one step.

Gimli’s face got dangerously red but he couldn’t call it a lie; still taking up battles and misfortunes there was a game two could play. 

“Didn’t you drop your bow and scream like a little boy whose balls have yet to drop?!” he pushed back, harder, almost felling the elf. 

“You would too, had you had the wits to understand what we were facing!” he snapped back as he regained his footing, but too slow. 

Overcome with anger, Gimli pushed him again, this time felling him into the water completely. Legolas came up, spitting water and anger and holding a foot almost as hariy as a hobbits in a firm grip, flipping Gimli backwards into the water. The dwarf came to his feet with a roar, tackled the elf who tried to slide away and they both fell, tangled and wet, grabbing for a hold on soapy bodies. 

"What is that all about?" Marry stared wide eyed at the splasyh fight that had driven them all from their bath. 

Aragron shrugged and sighed. 

"It was inevitable, I suppose. Opposites attracts after all. Everyone know that."


End file.
